


A Day to Celebrate

by Gigi_Sinclair



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gigi_Sinclair/pseuds/Gigi_Sinclair
Summary: Based on two tumblr prompts from hollycomb. Chapter One, and I quote: "Matt wants to share Life Day with Techie but tbh he doesn't know wtf Life Day is really about."





	

**Author's Note:**

> A Day to Celebrate is, of course, the name of the official Life Day song. If you feel the need to hear it performed by Princess Leia, [here you go](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YRrm59Z_0w4%22).

“It's Life Day soon.” 

Matt senses the words as much as hears them, Techie's light voice rumbling against his sternum. Matt raises one large hand—he always feels so big next to Techie, although Techie is tall and sturdier than he looks—and runs it through Techie's long hair. Techie asked, once, whether Matt would prefer he cut it. 

“It's your hair, babe,” Matt had replied. “I'll love you whatever you look like.” That seemed to be both a really great and a really terrible answer. It made Techie look more anxious than usual, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and blinking rapidly, but then he wound his arms around Matt's neck and kissed him hard, over and over again, his tongue brushing against Matt's and the lengths of their bodies pressed together, head to toe, until Matt felt dizzy with desire. 

Now, Matt's too relaxed and satiated for anything like that. Instead, he leans down to peck Techie lightly, on the top of the head. “What's Life Day?”

“What's Life Day?” Techie repeats. He shifts out of Matt's arms and props himself up on an elbow beside him. The bed, like all beds aboard the _Finalizer_ except probably Hux's and, of course, Kylo Ren's, is narrow, but Matt doesn't mind the cramped quarters. He grew up sharing a bed with half a dozen brothers and sisters. While this is completely different, he never did get used to sleeping alone. “You never celebrated it?”

“We celebrated the planting and the harvest. That was it.” Before he joined the First Order, Matt lived on a small planet where the only industry was agriculture. When the weather changed and the crops began to fail, year after year, Matt enlisted. It was meant to be a temporary measure, until things improved at home. He never went back. 

Techie's eyes whir, focusing on Matt's face. “One of my owners loved it. It was, ah, really stupid, actually. He treated the slaves like shit all year, but on Life Day we got a good meal and gifts and we had to sit around talking about why we were grateful to be alive. Then the next day, it was back to shit again.” 

“He sounds deranged, babe.” 

Techie laughs, then covers his mouth, like he didn't expect it. “Maybe he was. Or maybe he thought when he died, we'd remember the Life Days and forgot about the rest of it. He was really, ah, really worried about being remembered when he was gone.” 

“Is that what it's about?” Matt's culture did that, pausing in the middle of each holiday celebration to talk about everyone who'd died since the last one. By the time Matt left, there had been too many deaths to mention everyone by name. 

“Some people think that. Other people, ah, think other things.” He sighs. “Anyway, he sold me off. To her.” Techie never says her name. Matt's glad of that. She's dead, he knows that much, but if Matt knew who she was, he would have to track down every member of her family and brutally murder them for what she did to Techie. He wouldn't have a choice. “She wasn't, um, wasn't really into holidays.” 

Techie lies down again, resting his head on Matt's chest. Matt tightens his arm around him. “Do you want to do something? To celebrate?” Holidays are banned within the First Order, but they could still do something privately, here in their room.

“No. Not really. Sorry, I don't know why I mentioned it.” But he sounds a little wistful. As he burrows closer, Matt pulls the blanket over them and frowns, determined to find out everything he can about Life Day. 

***

Matt can't begin to count the ways in which with Techie has improved his life. One of the most obvious is that he's calmer now. Waves of rage, which have plagued him for as long as he can remember, still rise within him. He still longs to erupt into violence, on a daily and sometimes an hourly basis, but he clenches his fists and grits his teeth and breathes his way past it, thinking of Techie. Techie suffered so much at the hands of a violent person. Matt will not be like her, not in any way. He would never hurt Techie, he's known that since the first moment they met, but he doesn't hurt others now, either. Not even himself. He doesn't want Techie to ever have a reason to be afraid of him. Even more importantly, he doesn't want Techie to ever have a reason to be disappointed in him. 

This new self-control, hard as it is sometimes, has made Matt's work easier. His colleagues are still complete morons, but now that he doesn't get furious over every little stupid thing they do, they've started, it seems, to like him better. Leslie even brings him muffins, sometimes. They're inevitably dry and crumbly, but Matt eats them anyway, thinking how happy Techie will be when they get together later and Matt tells him how he managed to get along with her. 

One day, as they sit in front of an open panel eating oi-oi berry muffins that most likely date from the reign of Palpatine, Matt looks over to Leslie and says, “Do you know anything about Life Day?” 

Although they're alone in a long hallway, Leslie looks around, as if someone might be spying on them. “You're not supposed to talk about that stuff.” 

“I know.” He'd already tried to look it up, making sure to use an untraceable proxy, but the _Finalizer_ 's holonet is so heavily censored all he could find was an excerpt from a fervent speech by Orson Krennic decrying it as “the most vile and Republican of indulgences.” 

“But,” Leslie goes on, a dreamy quality coming to her voice. “I love it. When I was a little girl, my mom and I used to make these Wookie-shaped cookies with chocolate sprinkles. I still dream about them.” 

“Is that what it's about? Baking shit?” If that's the case, then Matt's out. They aren't even allowed hot plates in their rooms.

“For some people. For others, it's about being with their families. Or giving gifts.” 

Matt's family is dead. But the last idea holds some promise. “What kind of gifts?”

Leslie shrugs. “Anything, really. Just something that shows your love.” Matt frowns. There's nothing in the galaxy that can possibly show Techie how much Matt loves him. “Like, you could give your boyfriend a nice piece of jewellery or something. Where I'm from, there's a tradition that if you want to ask someone to marry you, you hide a ring in a Life Day cake, and when they bite into it, there it is. I bet your guy would love it, Matt.” 

Maybe. No one below the rank of Commander is permitted to marry, technically, but Matt knows there are a few secretly married couples around. And if Matt was going to marry anyone, it would without a doubt be Techie. But Techie's not really interested in jewellery, and what would be the point of giving him something he could only wear in their room? 

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks.” 

Leslie nods, then looks down at the remains of the muffin Matt's hands.

“Here.” He hands it over. “Take your time. I'm going to take a look at the F-4 joiner again.” She hums happily in acknowledgment. He picks up his tools and reaches back into the open panel, his mind turning. 

***

A few nights later, Matt and Techie go to the auditorium, to watch a large-scale projection of a newly released holofilm. Normally, Matt likes to watch smaller-scale projections of old favourites at home, alone with Techie, curled up in bed and preferably naked. But it's good to get out sometimes. Matt wants to help Techie like Techie has helped him, and the more times they go out together, the less Techie seems petrified by everyone. 

He is nervous, though. His hand sweats against Matt's as the auditorium slowly fills, and Matt squeezes it in a way he hopes is at least a little bit reassuring. Techie flashes him a small smile for that, and Matt's heart leaps. 

Techie chose the film. Matt's not sure what it's about, some gushy romance probably. Techie likes those best, as long as they have a happy ending. Matt would prefer an action film, something with a lot of fights and explosions, but they make Techie wince and turn away. At home, that's not necessarily a problem, as Techie often finds other, extremely satisfying, ways to occupy himself when he doesn't want to watch a film. Since that's not about to happen here, Matt hopes this will be something Techie enjoys. 

The film is popular, whatever it is. The auditorium is packed by the time the holoprojector leaps to life. As the overhead lights dim, Techie's eyes whir, trying to focus on the holographic image in front of them. They seem to struggle, clicking loudly again and again as they try to lock on. Matt's used to the sound. He barely even notices it any more, but Techie, clearly annoyed, presses his palms against his eyes. Sometimes that resets them, but this time, they just grind harder. 

“Fuck off,” a voice behind them says. “They don't let droids in here.” 

“Matt...” Right away, Techie grabs for Matt's arm, but Matt doesn't stop. He can't. He stands, ignoring the hoots of complaint around him, and turns to look at a smirking 'trooper in the next row. 

“Do you have a problem?”

“Matt, don't...” Techie pulls on his hand. Matt yanks it away. 

“Looks like you've got the problem, _Matt_.” The 'trooper's friends snicker beside him. “Better get your glitchy droid into the shop. I guess that's what happens when you get too much come on its face.” 

Matt's fist connects with the 'trooper's nose and, for a moment, it's pure bliss. The crack of cartilage beneath Matt's knuckles, the spurt of blood that erupts from the man's nostrils, the look of shock on his stupid, ugly face. It's heaven. Then Matt remembers. 

“Oh, shit. Techie, I'm sorry...” Matt looks down. Techie's hiding his head in his hands. The moment of distraction is all the 'trooper's friends need. They grab Matt by the lapels of his jumpsuit and pull him over into their row, raining blows onto his face and body. Matt barely feels them. They can't compare to the pain of knowing he's let Techie down. 

Suddenly, everything stops. Reflexively, Matt screws his eyes shut as the auditorium lights go up, blazing brightly. The 'troopers drop him, although there's not enough room for him to hit the floor. He ends up sprawled half on their laps as footsteps march slowly down the auditorium steps. 

“May I ask,” a voice says, crisp and precise, “just what is going on here?” 

Matt tries to open his eyes. One feels too bruised to move, but the other lands on the imposing figure of General Hux himself, standing at the end of the row of seats and staring. 

“General Hux, sir!” The 'troopers leap to their feet. Matt does the same, vaguely aware of a need to retain some sort of composure. 

“Matt didn't start it, sir.” Another voice breaks in. Leslie. Matt hadn't even seen her here. “They were insulting his boyfriend.” 

“Insulting. His. Boyfriend.” The words drip with disdain. “And who, exactly, might this boyfriend be?” 

“That's, um, me. Sir.” Techie's voice is so steady, Matt wants to hug him. Instead, he watches as Hux turns toward Techie. In an instant, Hux's expression changes. Matt can't interpret it. It looks almost...fond? Whatever it is, it lasts only a moment, and then Hux is back to his usual hard-faced glare. 

“I order you to disperse, all of you. There will be no holofilms for the foreseeable future. Clearly, this is a privilege you as a whole are not capable of handling.” He turns, clasping his gloved hands behind his back like a disappointed schoolmaster, and stalks away. As soon as the auditorium door swings shut behind him, the room erupts in boos. Someone tosses a plastisteel cup, half-filled with what smells like a blue milkshake, at Matt. It hits him in the chest, soaking his clothes with vile, viscous liquid. A squad of helmeted Stormtroopers, weapons in hand, herd the crowd toward the exits. Matt looks back at Techie, but Techie doesn't meet his eye. “I'll meet you outside,” Matt calls to him, as the uniformed 'troopers push them along. Techie is caught in the crush of people behind him. “Just don't panic, okay?”

“It's, um, it's okay,” Techie replies. “I'm actually fine. I think I'll just go back to my place. Alone.” 

“Oh.” Matt doesn't argue. He can't. A moment later, he's outside the auditorium, and Techie is nowhere to be found. 

Two full duty cycles pass. According to the schedule Matt keeps in his room, Matt and Techie are on opposite shifts now, but still, Techie would normally crawl into bed with Matt when he finished work, and Matt would kiss him good-bye when he got up to leave. Techie doesn't come. Matt's bed feels very empty. He composes several comm messages to Techie, but deletes all of them without sending. He doesn't know what to say. Nothing feels adequate, and nothing properly expresses just how sorry he is. 

“I told you,” Leslie says, as they lie intimately close in an access tube above E deck. “Pop the question on Life Day. He won't be able to resist.”

“He's not even talking to me, Leslie. How am I going to propose?” 

She shrugs, like that's the most minor of considerations. “The Life Day cake. No speaking required.” Matt rolls his eyes.

As usual, it's Techie that comes to his rescue. 

At the end of the third cycle since the fight, as Matt comes off his last beta shift of the rotation, he finds Techie waiting in his quarters, sitting on the solitary chair. Matt stops in the doorway, frozen in place, as his brain searches frantically for the right thing to say. 

“Hi,” Techie says, quietly. He stands up, and Matt moves further into the room, the door hissing shut behind him. “It's Life Day.” 

“Um. Right. Yeah.” 

“This is for you.” Techie extends a hand. He's holding one of his little figures, the ones he twists out of bits of stripped wire he, or more usually Matt, steals from the refuse bins. Matt hasn't seen this one before. 

Gently, as if it's a delicate animal, Matt takes the figure. It's smaller than Techie usually makes, dwarfed in the palm of Matt's hand. Peering at it, he can make out two stylized people, their heads and legs evident. For arms, they share a single wire, wrapped around both of their shoulders, as if they are embracing. 

“That man,” Techie says, as Matt stares at the figure. “The one who, um, owned me. I said he celebrated Life Day with us because he wanted to be remembered when he died. That was part of it. I also think he wanted a family. I did, too. Always.” Techie licks his lips. His eyes click as they meet Matt's. “And now I have one. You.” Matt doesn't know what to say. Tears well in his eyes and threaten to spill over, but he can't burst out crying now. He breathes heavily, trying desperately to control himself. Techie glances away. “Sorry it's not, ah, something better. But I'm saving up for new eyes.” 

“I'll get you new eyes.” He doesn't know how, but he'll do it. “I'll get you whatever you want.” 

“You don't...”

“Marry me.” It sounds harsh, like an order. Matt tries again. “Please. I know you probably hate me because I can't control myself...”

“I love you,” Techie interrupts. “No matter what. I'm just, ah, just really really scared you might do something that will get you taken away from me. And then I don't know what I'll do.” 

Matt can't help himself. He yanks Techie into his arms, pulling him off his feet. Matt buries his face in Techie's neck, hiding his tears as he breathes in the warm, comforting scent of home. 

Much later, as they lie in bed in the dark drifting slowly toward sleep, Techie says, “We aren't allowed to get married.” Before Matt can rouse himself to reply, he goes on, “But we aren't allowed to celebrate holidays, either.” 

Matt smiles to himself. A lot of cuddling, followed by a lot of sex, followed by even more cuddling has calmed him, mostly. There's still a knot of emotion lodged deep in his chest, but it's pleasant rather than painful now. And Techie's figurine is on Matt's bedside table, where Matt will see it as soon as he wakes up every morning. “Is that a yes?”

“Happy Life Day, Matt.” Techie kisses him, sweetly and softly, and lies down again, pressed snugly to Matt's side.


End file.
